The Jazz Age
by Avadaur
Summary: AmericaXRomano Mafia 1920's AU. He had nowhere else to turn, his friends were ready to kill him, his brother was struggling financially, and he had enemies on every corner, little did he know his savior would come in the form of an annoying blonde.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Don't own Hetalia, Don't sue me, yada yada yada._

_So, I decided to finally post a fanfic for APH (I read enough of them) with an incredibly rare pairing. Why this pairing you ask? I thought it would work with this AU... and it's cute :3 )_

_But anyways, fair warning, don't expect any smut for awhile, I plan to take things slowly with this partly because I am seek with the simple meet and smex yaoi verse where everyone is gay and woman do not exist._

_So in short: The relationship's main issue will be them dealing with society's perception (and their own) on their recently discovered sexuality. So don't expect, Ohhhh five seconds after they meet they smex it up... because if you do, i WILL find you and beat you over the head with a fish... and smelly fish._

_(Oh, and please, feel free to point out any plot or grammatical errors, thank you~)_

* * *

The sounds of distant gunshots could be heard ripping through the night, the walls of the small tenement doing nothing to shield their inhabitants ears from their dreadful nose.

'So this is the land of milk and honey, huh...' Alfred gave a long drawn sigh, another restless night it seemed. He looked over to the still form of his brother, giving a nod to the man's ability to sleep through anything.

Heaving himself off the bed, Alfred walked over to the small window overlooking row upon row of low income housing, the worn brick towers casting eerie shadows in the moonlight.

He ran his hand through his golden locks, "Five years," he mumbled, "Five stinkin' years of this shit, and what do me an' Mattie have to show for it?" He stared towards the night, seeking answers in its silence.

"Al-Alfred, you awake?" questioned a voice laced in the comfort of sleep, Matthew shifted in his bed, facing his brother with concern.

Alfred shook his head, "Nah, go back to bed Mattie. Ya got work early tomorrow."

"If there is something that's keeping you up, shouldn't you talk about it? I mean-"

"No, nothin's wrong. Like I said before, get yerself back to bed mister." His tone held a note of finality, a gentle tell to his brother to drop the subject.

Matthew gave a small sigh, seeking once again refuge beneath his covers. "I know this isn't what we wanted, I know it's been a trip to hell and back, but... but it'll get better, just you wait," he said in a soft voice. "I know the city hasn't been too nice, but we can manage. We always do."

"Y-yeah, the land o' opportunity Mattie. Just you an' me against this goddamn world," something in Alfred's voice cracked.

A small nod could be seen under the covers. "Sleep tight Alfred. Goodnight."

"An' don't let no bedbugs bite." Walking slowly back to his bed, Alfred slipped once again beneath his covers, their heat too much, their coils too constricting. "G'night Mattie.

* * *

"_Another _sleepless night," Alfred mumbled, trotting along the garbage ladened sidewalk. "Always gotta happen on my nights off too..." Noticing the coffee shop drawing near, he slowed his already slow pace.

Upon hearing the jingle of the bell, a small Italian man turned, face beaming. "Ahhh~ Alfred! _Stai Bene?_ How are you today?"

Giving a small shrug, Alfred took his usual seat by the window. "Been better Feliciano, been better."

"No no no, _Cosa c'è di sbagliato? _All is not well? Tell me, maybe you need to talk? Oh, I know A cup of our finest coffee, yes yes, that will do nicely!"

Giving a small laugh, Alfred watched his friend ramble on, muttering and cooing phrases in Italian and broken English.

"Nah, just the usual Feliciano. All I need is a good ol' kick of caffeine an' I'll be right back on the saddle."

"But Alfreeed!" He whined, "Why must you insist on such, such... _spaventoso_, such horrible coffee?"

"Because, it's cheap. And hell, I need a jumpstart today." Giving a strained grin, Alfred rested his head in his palms.

"And again, why must you insist on the payment!" Feliciano was poised to further their small 'argument,' untill he noticed customers waiting for orders. "Fiiine~ But it is on the house again." In an ucharacteristic huff, he went to collect and prepare his orders for the day.

Alfred gave a small grin, and turned his attention to the window. "Sad, huh..." He gave a quiet laugh, if he was sad, then what did that make the rest of the world.

He settled into the coffee shops warmth, enjoying the thick scent of rich brews and mouth-watering biscotties. To think this place went unoticed by him for so many years, shoved in the back corners of some dingy alley it rarely saw any business. So the first time when he actually walked into the small establishment, he was immediately bombarded by the cheerful Italian man.

Alfred gave another warm grin, remembering the first time he pulled Matthew to this place, receiving yet another boisterous welcome. It was only then, with the three of them alone in the shop, did Feliciano reveal the trouble he was in. Emigrating from Northern Italy, the man told him the plight of his business, how if he did not attract more customers, he would face an insurmountable amount of debt. And Alfred, being the self proclaimed hero at the time, offered to aid him (much to his brother's chagrin).

'The planning was the fun part,' Alfred thought. The execution itself was less so, not too difficult, but time consuming none the less. 'Who woulda' thought that a little ol' Jazz night would be so much work?' Pulling together connections for entertainment had been easy, since Alfred did play trumpet for a small jazz group hired by the dance club "Nocturnal." The advertisement was a piece of cake, a few handouts to a 'frolicking' men and woman was all it took. No, the real issue was ensuring those patrons became long time clients, spreading the word.

But it did work, obviously, and Feliciano Vargas became a trusted friend of the twins. And, in a world where everyone was willing to stab you back for no reason at all, this made the bond even greater.

Alfred glanced at his watch and let out a small sigh, even though his shift didn't start until late in the evening, there were errands to run. And he would be damned if Matthew was forced to fit in shopping during his long and strenuous days at Ford's factory. 'Always looks so tired, Mattie's gotta put his feet up once in awhile-'

"Ve~ Here you are Alfred!" Chirped the Italian man. "One cup of American Roast, dark, with one spoon of sugar!"

"Sheesh ya' know me to well," Alfred said, rubbing the back of his head. Taking the steaming cup of coffee, the blond rose an eyebrow when Feliciano sat next to him. "Don't ya' got customers waiting Feliciano?" Shaking his head the small Italian began to nervously wring a small dishcloth in his hands. Alfred's brows furrowed, "What's wrong?"

"Ah, well, you see..." He trailed off, kneading the cloth with greater zeal.

"Come on, no fair I get ta' bitch while ya go on looking like a nervous wreck." He eyes and voice softened, "Ya can tell me, is it that German guy... Ludwig right? Been bothering ya'?" Though the man was another close acquaintance of Feliciano, he was also in charge of the rent, which meant a slew of possible 'situations.'

"No! Of course not, no... It's... It's my brother Alfred..."

"Oh..." Alfred, for once, was for a loss of words. Feliciano's older brother, Lovino Vargas, emigrated from the southern part of Italy only a year after his brother, but instead of taking the honest route he decided to associate himself with some... less than reputable characters. So, the older brother has been a taboo of sorts, he was a known entity, but speaking about his deeds was out of the question.

"_Spiacente_, I know it is uncomfortable to bring up such a thing, but I am worried about him." Feliciano looked up at Alfred, his eyes pleading him to listen. "The_ i__mbecille_, with this prohibition thing the government has put into effect, he has been doing horrible deals with the mafia!" The Italian looked on the verge of tears at this moment. "I tell him not to do this, to quit, but he does not listen! But now I am more worried than ever. My brother's little gang has made bad blood with the group run by a man named Lester Gillis, and he has nowhere to go! I cannot offer him a home, the small room above the shop barely houses me!" Tears were now freely flowing down his face. "_Si prega di_, please, if it is not too much of a burden could you shelter Lovino, if only for awhile. He is not safe on the streets, and I promise I will take care of all his expenses." Feliciano was now actively begging, hands clasped together in a hopeful prayer.

Alfred gave a small sigh (damn him for being so righteous) and accepted. "Y-yeah, alright. I'm sure Mattie won't mind, I'll take in yer brother fer ya'."

"_Grazie_, oh Alfred, thank you, thank you!" He clapped his hands together with relief, and began dabbing his teary face with the crumpled dishcloth, "I promise you he will be no trouble! Oh I cannot express my gratitude!

"N-no problem Feliciano, just... I'm not openin' any doors ta' hell here am I? I mean, it sounds like the guys got a pretty bad rep."

"No no no, I promise no harm will fall on any of you. I would not have asked if that was the case!"

"O-okay..."


	2. Chapter 2

_Alright, I am so sorry this took so long to upload. I actually had this done a month ago, but kept forgetting to edit it for your viewing pleasure. But, on a happier note, due to my exams and school being out, I will definitely be updating a lot more._

_I also know this is an incredibly short chapter, I promise they will be longer, but the beginning to this story is really fragmented, and won't flow right if I start combining chapters._

_A/N: I do not own Hetalia_

* * *

"Are you sure he's coming?" Matthew questioned, quirking an eyebrow. "I mean, it's bad enough we have to use what little space we have to house a known mafia member, but to make us wait almost two hours..."

Alfred sighed, continuing to fidget with his glasses, "Come on Mattie, this is Feliciano's brother we're talkin' bout. Shit, imagine if this was us in this situation, whatta bout then?"

"Al, I can not picture either of us as 'Gangsters.' I mean, remember that time you cried when brother made that rabbit you were so fond of into a stew, you were inconsolable for weeks." Alfred turned his head with a huff, a ever childish pout adorning his features. "All I'm saying is that this might be more trouble then it's worth. We barely can support ourselves."

"But Mat-"

"And don't tell me that Feliciano is able to support him, if he could, he wouldn't be asking us to take his only brother in, now would he?"

Walking over to his still pouting sibling, Matthew put a calming, yet worried, hand on his shoulder, "I'm just stating the facts, I know you have a tendency to rush into things."

Patting the hand on his shoulder, Alfred cast a warm glance at his twin, "An' this is why I got you, Mattie. Someone 'round here has gotta be the voice o' reason." With a wink, he then proceeded to plop down on the worn sofa, taking only a quick glance at the beaten wood door. "But still, that Feliciano has got no one ta rely on, an' I figure in this crazy ass world, we gotta do for friends."

Shaking his head, Matthew picked his brother's feet off the sofa, sitting down where they previously rested. "Al, there _is_ a difference between aiding a friend in need and walking strait into hell... and I'm thinking that we are going to be doing the latter." Shutting his eyes, Matthew let his body relax into the cushions, "But I guess there is no sense in arguing this now, I just wish you talked with me first... though I don't suppose it would turn out any differently."

Giving a small snigger, Alfred nudged his twin with his foot, "Awe Mattie, ya know me too well sometimes."

"Fortunately or unfortuna-" Matthew's comment was interrupted by several loud raps on the door.

Heaving himself off the sofa, Alfred bounded to the door, "Bout time I say!" Sliding out the latch, the excited man threw open the door, revealing the source of the noise.

Standing just out side the threshold was almost a perfect, albeit disgruntled looking, copy of Feliciano, save for the darker skin and hair, and hazel eyes. And said eyes were widened in surprise at Alfred's display of enthusiasm.

"Well wattya doin' standin' out there for? Come on in... ah shit, what was yer name again?"

The bewildered look quickly darkened, and a frown was caste upon his features, "My name is Lovino _idiota_. I'm sure my _fastidioso_ brother has told you."

"Lovino~, got it!" Alfred snapped his fingers, trying to commit the name to memory. "Ah! Shoot, hold there lil' buddy, lemme help you with those bags!" Lightly trotting around the groused newcomer, Alfred began to ferry several of his cases into the apartment."

"Careful with those! I swear, if you break anything-"

Matthew (completely unnoticed during this little exchange) quickly extended his hand to the Italian, cutting off Lovino mid-sentence. "It's good to meet you Lovino, my name is Matthew." Giving himself a mental pat on the back for diffusing the small bomb of a situation, he continued to try and hold the smaller man's attention.

Giving a displeased click of the tongue, Lovino turned his gaze to Matthew. "I don't know what my brother has told you, but it's not like I want to be here! But still... _Grazie_, thank you."

With an understanding nod, Matthew motioned for Lovino to step inside. "It's small, but make yourself at home. We don't have any extra mattresses, so I hope the sofa is alright. I'll bring out some extra blankets later for you." The Italian nodded, still looking around the abode with a speculative glare.

"It's good ya finally decided ta show up! We were jus' startin' to make dinner." Placing the bags down in a neat pile near the sofa, Alfred continued to chatter on. "Now lemme' tell ya, we don't get many guests, so it's real nice your staying with us!" After he placed the last bag, the buoyant twin bounded over to the middle of the room.

"So, let me be the first to give ya the grand tour! Me an' Mattie sleep over yonder," Alfred said, motioning to the room adjacent from the living quarters. An' right 'cross from that is the bath. And-" he stopped, turning back to face the disgruntled Italian "-if ya got any questions at all, jus' ask me or Mattie!"

Giving a warm (if not slightly strained) smile towards Lovino, Matthew nodded towards the kitchen, "And dinner is almost done if you want any, though it's nothing fancy."

"Che! Thanks... I guess, I haven't eaten anything in awhile." With a faint scowl, Lovino proceeded to drop onto the sofa (his new bed) and stare angrily at the floor. Watching with mild interest, Matthew gave a small sigh and started towards the kitchen, leaving Alfred alone with their new guest.

As if on cue, Alfred returned to chatting away, "So anyways, Mattie's got some good cookin', best hotcakes 'round! But, there is one thing I've been meanin' to ask ya..." His tone quickly turned serious, juxtaposing the usual aura of cheerfulness, "I need to know if we're gonna be havin' any trouble with your... 'associates.' Just a precautionary thing, but ya know, I gotta make sure Matt is safe."

Not meeting Alfred's questioning gaze, Lovino continued to stare at the floorboards. "You won't have to worry. Those _bastardos_ will keep away in this area, territory shit and all that... you and your _fratello _will be fine."

Upon hearing those words, Alfred's face softened. "That's good to know, but other than all that crazy shit, it'll be a pleasure havin' ya stay with us, I'm sure!" Taking a few sniffs of the air, he patted his stomach, "An' it looks like dinner will be ready in no time at all! Well ain't today turnin' out all nice and such"

"Che, whatever _idiota_."

Matthew peeked his head into the living quarters, "Guys, dinner is ready. Wash up, and Alfred, help me set the table this time."

"Alright mom," He whined, starting towards the kitchen, "Hurry and wash up Lovino, I'll help ya unpack later," Alfred called over his shoulder."

Lovino just made a small noise of recognition, and slowly started to make his way towards the kitchen, still keeping his eyes at a downcast.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: So I want to say sorry for the slow and small updates. It was actually after rereading my reviews did I get renewed inspiration for the piece, so thank you all very much. And unlike before, I will now respond to each and every review, to show my gratitude.

I have decided that I want to put all of my effort into the piece, so expect more frequent updates (as an apology for the hiatus)

But I do have one question: Do you want several short updates every week, or do you want all of them in one go at the end of every 1-2 month? I'm asking you because I'm okay with either and I want to know what would be more beneficial to you.

* * *

It had been one week, one week hell and back for the one and only, Lovino Vargas. He mumbled in incoherent Italian, putting his head in his hands, and rubbed his sleep deprived eyes. The sofa had done wonders for his oh so wonderful temperament, and he had no idea how he could live off the simple diet of bread, water, and other blasé foodstuffs (what he would kill for a plate of _well _prepared Saltimbocca).

"_Sto vivendo in un inferno_..."

"Ya say somethin' lil buddy?" Alfred asked, breaking the depressed silence. Closing the door, he trotted lightly into the room, looking surprisingly well kept for a person who spent the night playing in a hot, cramped club, drowning in cigarettes and bodies.

"Che! Nothing, didn't _tua madre_teach you not to eavesdrop." He said, rolling his eyes and turning away with an indignant huff. "And don't call me your '_lil buddy_'."

Giving a small, yet strained grin, Alfred continued on, dropping into the adjacent armchair. "O' course, o' course, though, I don't remember walkin' into a 'conversation' eavesdroppin'."

"And I don't remember shoving yourself into a conversation good manners." Lovino retorted.

Rubbing his chin with an amused expression, Alfred quipped, "An' I don't remember talking to yerself as a legitimate conversation."

Quirking an eyebrow, Lovino gave the blond a coltish look. "Ya know bastard, you aren't half bad. Probably one of the biggest _idiota's _I've ever met, but hey, look at my brother."

"You shouldn't berate your lil brother like that. The guy's your little guardian angel, he's lookin' out for ya an' you shouldn't forget that," Alfred chided. "In this place, even a little bit o' family is important... no, it's the _most_ important thing you have. You gotta make sure they stay safe. I mean, it's the least ya could do for someone who isn't willin' to stab ya in the back!"

Shifting slightly, Lovino propped his elbows on his knees, giving Alfred a serious look. "You don't think I know that. I... I do what I do for a reason, and I don't need anyone else's approval."

Giving a small laugh, Alfred relaxed back into his seat, letting his eyes glance up at the dirty ceiling. "We all do what we gotta do Lovino, just don't lose sight of what yer doin' it for-," a small pause, "-but, in the interest of me an' Mattie... how deep _are _you in?"

With a discontented sigh, the Italian shifted his eyes to the floor. "They won't come after you or your brother, they only want me... they aren't interested in _collateral_. Gotta give it to those bastards for trying to keep their grimy hands clean."

Recasting his gaze towards Lovino, Alfred's complacent expression turned serious, "Listen lil buddy, I'm worried fer ya, I truly am. But I swear ta the Lord above, if any harm comes to Mattie, I won't be so welcomin' anymore." His lips folded upwards into a strained smile, "I don't mean ta come off as hostile, I really am tryin ta look after you for Feliciano's sake, but I know you understand, _family comes first_."

"I know, I know. But trust me bastard, I wouldn't be sitting here right now if those bastards were really itching to get their hands on me, I'd be a fucking sitting duck!" He threw his hands up into the air, his voice rising an octave, "There would be no way in hell I would be caught this close to Feliciano if that was the fucking case!"

Raising his hands in mock defense, Alfred gave a small chuckle towards the semi-hysterical Italian. "Alright, alright. I understand what yer sayin'. Just makin' sure my point gets across, no hard feelings lil buddy."

With a small scoff, Lovino sent a piercing gaze towards the blond. "Whatever, anyways, shouldn't you be heading off to bed, your beginning to annoy the crap out of me."

"Geez, way to be getting' my case..." Quietly jumping off his seat, as to not disturb his still sleeping brother, he began to stroll towards their shared bedroom. "G'night, also, judgin' from those bags around your eyes, you might wanna take your own advice."

"I'll do what I want, bastard."

A soft, "Sweet dreams lil buddy," was heard as the door lightly clicked behind him.

Throwing his face into the lumpy, moth bitten pillow, Lovino quietly mumbled, "_Va all'inferno_,_ tua bastardo..._"

* * *

A few hours past before Matthew awoke, the beams of sunlight peaking past the curtains, kissing his eyes gently awake with their light. Rubbing his face, he arched his back stretching, trying in vain to work out all the kinks. He cast a small, warm, glance towards the softly breathing frame of his brother, before frowning.

'This is such a mess...' The past few days had been a constant stream of uphill battles, the spitfire of an italian had shattered the normally tranquil (if not strained) atmosphere of their little abode. Feliciano had not given his brother or his hosts any money, nor has it seemed he ever intends to. Not to mention, his alleged mafia inolvment had given Matthew a few sleepless nights, every bump lead the blonde male to assume that their kindness had eventually dug their graves.

With a small groan, he arose, and proceeded to make way for the bathroom. Even though he had the day off, (thank the lord for Sundays) he still needed to be the productive sibling. With Alfred's nightime job, the duty of groceries and other various chores fell on him.

He made sure to walk with light steps down the hall, just to make certain he didn't provoke the ire of an incredibly irate Italian. But, it seemed in vain, as he heard rummaging through their pantries.

"Good morning, Lovino," he whispered, peaking his head through the archway. Though, he wish he hadn't, for the sight before him made Matthew give a light sigh of exasperation. Strewn out, upon all the table and counter tops was all the foodstuffs they had in their small (he preferred to call it quaint) apartment. Taking in a small breath of courage (oh may the lord be good to him today) he meekly asked, "Is something wrong?"

Not even turning around to acknowledge Matthew's presence, he only made a small grunting noise in reply. Continuing to shuffle through the cabinets and drawers, he eyed most of the food with distaste. "No wonder the food tastes like shit," he said with a feigned disinterest. "Look at this, half of this crap is expired, are you trying to poison everyone?"

"_Please_, keep your voice down, Al is still sleeping." Running a hand through his locks, Matthew gave Lovino a pleading look, "I know it isn't gourmet quality, but it's the best we can do... please if you can, just stop pulling things out, I'll put them back later, just... please."

"F-fine," he said sharply.

"Thank you." He watched as Lovino walked out of the kitchen, and then rubbed his temples in annoyance once he was out of view. It had lately become an annoying pattern, the insomniac Italian rummaging through their cupboards, scrutinizing their limited supply of food. Whether it was an annoying quirk, or the result of him being a tad stir crazy, still irked Matthew; who was left to clean up the mess.

Giving a small huff, Matthew once again started the tedious process of 'reorganizing' their cupboards. Well, that was until he heard a small crash coming from within the living area. Giving another disgruntled sigh, he proceeded to drag himself to investigate the new disaster awaiting him.

Standing over the shattered remains of what once was a lamp, Lovino continued to glare at the offending shards of glass.

"Wha-What happened?" Matthew breathed, his endless patience already wearing thin.

"I accidentally bumped the table, what's it to you?" The biting edge to Lovino's voice was all too apparent.

Backing up slightly, Matthew put on a disarming smile, trying to quickly to diffuse the situation. "Nothing, no problem!" he squeaked. Though the Italian was significantly smaller than him, Matthew wasn't keen on finding the limits of his fuse, or whether the resulting explosion would end in simple cussing... or less desirable results.

Deciding that it would be more productive to leave the apartment now, and clean when he gets back, Matthew headed to grab his coat. "I'll clean this when I get back, but I need to finish some errands, just um, try not to break anything else."

"Che!"

Giving a small smile Matthew put on his coat, and promptly headed out the door, leaving his sleeping brother and the Italian alone.

* * *

If it wasn't the overly loud banter that woke him, it was definitely the crash. Grumbling slightly, Alfred blearily looked towards the door, praying that the noise would quickly cease so he could get some well deserved shuteye. And, just when the noise died down, and he was finally succumbing to the seductive realm of sleep... his stomach let forth a deafening growl.

"Shit," he whined. Forgetting to eat upon his arrival home, Alfred let out several noises that sound eerily like some well known curses. "Guess I gotta' get me somethin' ta eat." Literally falling out of bed, the exhausted blond shambled to the door, managing to finally turn the knob on his third attempt.

Stifling a yawn Alfred continued into the living area, where, due to his current state, failed to notice the sharp shards of glass strewn about. One thing led to another and, in several events that were filled with cussing, hilarity, and blood, the end product gave way to Alfred being lain across the sofa, foot being attended to by the still cursing Lovino.

"-And I can't believe you don't fucking watch where you are walking moron!" The vulgarity was still streaming endlessly out of his mouth, whilst Alfred watched with an amused, albeit sleepy, expression.

"It's fine Lovino, ain't nothin' wrong, just a bit of a cut."

"Just a cut? Just a fucking cut? Are you kidding me? Your foot is gushing you ass!" To emphasize his point, Lovino wildly gestured to the linen wraps, which were starting to stain with red.

Giving a small laugh, Alfred let his head plop against Lovino's pillow. "No need ta get into such a hissy fit bout little ol' me," he said in a mock dame's voice.

Throwing his hands up in exasperation, Lovino let the foot plop against the arm of the couch, causing Alfred to let loose a girlish squeal. Holding back a snort, Lovino gave the injured man a quizzical look. "Che! Real manly Alfred."

"Hey, I don't see ya with a gapin' hole in yer foot lil buddy." Giving an awkward stretch, the blond tried to then carefully reposition his injured extremity.

"That's because I was smart enough to avoid the damn glass, idiot. And what the hell have I said about calling me _lil buddy_"

"Aw come on Lovino, it's just a nickname fer ya! No need ta get yer panties in a bunch."

"Like I care about your fucking names _bastardo_! My name is Lovino, remember it!"

"Well then _Lovino-_," Alfred made sure to put extra emphasis on his name, "If ya aren't too grumpy now, how about fixin' me up some breakfast?"

Still glaring hotly, Lovino got up, gave the foot a small smack, and made his way to the kitchen. "Way to masterfully switch topics moron."

With a slight grimace on his face, Alfred gave a small, yet strained, laugh. "Thank ya kindly."

* * *

It was late afternoon when Matthew arrived home, and boy did he have a story to tell Alfred when he awoke for supper. He'd have to wait until Lovino wasn't around, as he did not want to face the wrath of the spitfire Italian if he got wind of this news. Thinking of the inevitable rage awaiting him at home he was almost tempted to turn around, but, he had a household to run, and was not keen on letting Alfred take the brunt of Lovino's ire.

Gently shutting the door behind him, Matthew gave a small noise of surprise at the sight before him. There was his brother, sleeping peacefully on the couch, with a bloodied bandage adorning his foot... and then there was Lovino, drifting in and out of sleep on the armchair.

He cleared his throat, in an awkward attempt to rouse the sleeping duo. Yet his tiny noise went unnoticed, and they continued to slumber on. Deciding to let the sleeping lions lie, Matthew made his way to the kitchen to finish cleaning and to prepare supper.

Upon entering with the groceries, his eyebrows rose in surprise. "Ah, it's clean?"

"I figured I might as well do it to pass the time."

Jumping in surprise, Matthew turned to find Lovino resting against the archway. "Th-thank you, this saves me some time."

"Che, don't mention it." He unfolded his arms and made his way to one of the kitchen chairs.

"Um, but, if I may ask... what happened to Alfred's foot?"

Lovino rolled his eyes, scoffing slightly. "Your idiot brother decided to rummage for some fucking food, didn't freaking notice the glass all over the floor."

"O-oh." And with that said, the kitchen went silent. The only sounds were Matthew prepping their meal, and Lovino's constantly tapping foot.

The silence continued on, until the food was set on the stove. The smell, wafting through the small apartment, was just enough to rouse ever hungry blond.

"Dinner ready yet?" Alfred asked, as he staggered towards one of the free chairs, being mindful of his foot.

Matthew gave him a caring and concerned gaze. "Almost... how are you feeling? It doesn't hurt too much does it?"

"Nah, I've had worse!" He said whilst beating his chest. Taking the seat across from the Italian, Alfred gave him a small smile.

Lovino just cast an annoyed glance towards him. "No reason to be so fucking enthusiastic about it."

Leaning back in his seat, Alfred made a mock shooting motion. "Ya don't always gotta be so negative all the time lil buddy."

"Whose fucking negative, it's called being realistic moron," he retorted.

"Well I think I'd rather be a optimist!"

"More like an idiot!" Lovino quipped.

With a worn sigh, Matthew rapped his spoon against the counter. "Please! Stop, both of you, you'll agitate the neighbors."

"Fiiine~" Alfred whined

Lovino just sat there and rubbed his temples, wondering what kind of mess he got himself into.


	4. Chapter 4

**(A/N):**

Okay, I am sorry for such a long delay in chapters. I am also sorry how short this chapter is.

I finally managed to completely flesh out the story and characters, so expect more frequent chapters, as most of them are already written.

Think of this as a small interlude, since the plot will not be progressing more steadily.

* * *

"We're out of food _bastardo_," Lovino grumbled, sifting through the cupboards much more tenderly this time around. Not turning his focus away from the paper, Alfred just gave a small noise in acknowledgment. Crossing his arms, the Italian continued to mutter incoherent curses. "Without food, we don't eat. And I'm hungry."

"Okay, well let me go straight to the grocers get food with all the money we _don't _have." With a sigh, Alfred snapped and folded the paper, turning his body towards Lovino.

"Oh, trying to be a fucking wise guy, well isn't that great,_ testa de mierda_."

"Come on Lil' buddy, we're facin' some hard times. If ya really are that hungry, maybe ya could think about gettin' yourself a job?"

Lovino threw his hands up in annoyance. "_Si_, of course! Why didn't I think of that! Obviously keeping my head down means to go out in public and make a name for myself. _Alfredo_, you are _molto saggio_!"

Alfred placed his hand over his heart in mock hurt. "Geez, your sarcasm really pierces me, right in the ticker. And the name's Alfred, lil' buddy."

"Che! And my name's Lovino, _Alfredo_. Again, I am not little and I am not your buddy."

"And I'm not some kinda pasta," Alfred whined. "Alright, alright I get it. You get cranky when you're hungry, but don't take it out on me."

Lovino paused at the comment, his face contorting into an odd expression. "I'm not a women," his voice was hushed now.

"Yeah yeah, sure ya ain't a dame. You cook, clean, an' don't work. Definitely a real mans man." Laughing at his own joke, Alfred trailed off into an awkward grunt when he noticed the Italian's face. "C-come on lil' buddy, I was only jokin'."

Lovino just brushed the comment aside with a 'whatever,' and continued to look through the empty cupboards. Getting up from his seat, Alfred made his way to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Get off of me," Lovino muttered, trying in vain to shrug of the American.

"I'm sorry Lovino, I went a little overboard."

The irate Italian simply grunted a response, clenching the counter until his knuckles turned white. "When is Mathew supposed to be back from the store?"

Giving a sigh, Alfred propped himself up on the counter, his feet scraping the floor. "In a few minutes or, so I guess… I dunno though. Lately he's been takin his sweet time." Giving a small chuckle, Alfred turned his eyes towards the ceiling. "I got a feelin my Mattie might be sweet on some gal."

Raising his eyebrows, Lovino scoffed at Alfred's words. "You're kidding me? I didn't expect him to have an amorous bone in his body."

"Come on lil buddy, Mattie may be a pushover, but that don't mean he doesn't know how to woo those dames."

Lovino was prepared to retort, but was interrupted by the sound of the door opening. Matthew came in; arms filled with groceries, and faint blush lingering on his cheeks.

"S-sorry I'm late, it took me awhile with these bags," he mumbled as he set them down on the kitchen table.

Alfred just patted him on the back, and started the thankful task of refilling the barren kitchen. Lovino just shook his head at the blonde's obliviousness, yet refrained from commenting, not wanting to damage the now pleasant atmosphere.

"Wow Mattie, ya sure got a lot of stuff!" Though, Alfred's enthusiasm quickly waned as he asked, "How'd we afford all this?"

Matthew's blush deepened as he mumbled something about sales and other nonsensical things. Alfred just raised an eyebrow at his brother's odd behavior, while Lovino watched with mild amusement.

"Anyways… I, um, got those tomatoes you wanted, Lovino. They looked pretty fresh."

Nodding his head, the Italian walked over to the fruits, turning them over in his hands. "Nice, I guess. Not as good as the fresh ones Antonio used to buy," he stated begrudgingly.

Matthew paused, his eyes widening for a fraction of a second. "An-Antonio…?" he trailed off, unsure what to say.

Lovino shot Matthew a quizzical look. "Yeah, the bastard Carriedo raised me for a short time, if you could even call it that. Why, you know him?"

"Ah, no… no, just was curious," he said as he deflected the question.

The tension was cut by the ever-oblivious Alfred, who asked, "Can you cook Lovino?"

Rolling his eyes, Lovino scoffed, "Of course I can cook _Alfredo_."

* * *

"You like her~" Alfred practically sang, casting a sly look at his brother. "Mattie and Katyusha, sittin' in a tree k-i-s-," the boisterous blonde was cut off by a very firm hand connecting to the back of his skull.

"Stop it Al, we're just friends." Matthew let out a tired sigh and walked past his still dazed brother.

Skipping along completely unfazed, Alfred continued, "Right, an' I'm the king of France! Ya two were makin' those lovey eyes at each other!"

Matthew just rolled his eyes and began to pick up his pace. Thinking back, he knew Alfred was bound to find out… he just seemed privy to such small details, though completely oblivious to everything else. And, with their new houseguest's affinity for cooking, Matthew was constantly making more and more trips to the grocers. The same grocers where Katyusha worked. Every Tuesday through Saturday. From seven to six. With a half hour lunch break… He shook his head vehemently to clear his train of thought.

"You okay Mattie?" Alfred's quizzical expression reminded him that only he heard his internal monologue.

Waving him off, Matthew just shook his head. "Geez Al, I'm fine. And anyways, how long is Lovino supposed to stay with us? I mean, it has been nice to not do the cooking every day, but I'm getting worried that the longer we let him stay, the more trouble he's going to bring."

"Nice change in subject Mattie. Kudos to ya. And so what, I'm sure Lovino won't be too much of a bother. He seems to know how ta keep his head low!"

"Alfred. He had to flee Italy, come to America, and they are still chasing him. He has definitely angered the wrong group of people. And I would guess they aren't your average bootleggers." With a sigh, Matthew stopped walking and looked towards Alfred. "It's the Italian mafia Al. You know it. I know it. His brother even knows it. We are going to be stuck between a rock and a hard place soon Al, Lovino is a time bomb for trouble."

Alfred continued to walk on, causing Matthew to quicken his pace to catch up. "Well what do ya want me ta to Mattie? Kick him out on the streets, allow those people to come an' snatch him away to hell? Ya know he doesn't stand a chance against those enemies…" He paused in his speech but kept his stride steady. "But Mattie, if _you_ feel too threatened because of this…If ya really want ta… You can kick him out. But fer now, _I_ ain't gonna do that."

Shaking his head, Matthew turned his eyes towards the pavement. And, in a hushed tone, he whispered, "I don't want to do that either Al, I don't want to do that either."


End file.
